“Where are they, lads?” he exclaimed at length, in a hollow voice.
“All gone overboard, sir,” answered Jim, thinking he ought to speak.
The old man, on hearing this, fell flat on the deck.
We ran and lifted him up. At first I thought he was dead, but he soon opened his eyes and whispered—
“It was a passing weakness, and I’ll be better soon. Trust in God, laddies; go on pumping, and He’ll save your lives,” he said.
“We’ll take you below first, sir. You’ll be better in your berth than here,” I answered.
“No, no! I’ll stay on deck; the fresh air will do me good,” he said; but scarcely had he uttered the words than he fell back senseless.
“We must get him below, or he’ll die here,” I said; so Jim and I carried him down as before, and got him into his bed.
“He wants looking after,” said Jim; “so, Peter, do you tend him, and I’ll go back to the pumps.”
Thinking that he wanted food more than anything else, I lighted the cabin fire, and collecting some materials from the pantry for broth in a saucepan, put it on to boil.